


it's never like the old days

by teaspoonery (quodpersortem)



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 04:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13092207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quodpersortem/pseuds/teaspoonery
Summary: (livejournal re-post fromhere; mine)rating: pgword count: 842no it wasn’t like the old days anymoredate: 2010-08-07





	it's never like the old days

Under the iron bridge we kissed 
And although I ended up with sore lips 
It wasn’t like the old days, 
No it wasn’t like the old days anymore 
-The Smiths 


  
  
When they meet up after the war, everything still feels surprisingly familiar. Sid thought they’d have grown apart, perhaps to the point of not even liking each other anymore, but he feels the same old familiar spark the moment he meets eyes with Gene. The railway station is a sunny place today, with the dust of faraway states visibly swirling in the air, with foreign eyes frowning upon the stones and faces, but Sid hugs Gene without feeling even the faintest hint of embarrassment.   
  
After Sid has driven the car for a while, ten miles maybe, taking a detour through the countryside, he parks the vehicle by the side of the road. Like that, they talk – because Sid, because there is the urge to just kiss one another, to not simply pretend lusts don’t exist like they are doing now. They don’t kiss, and instead Sid pulls up the car and wonders how he has to tell Gene about being engaged.  
  
He ends up telling it far too happily, making a game out of it even if it churns his heart to see the hint of complete sadness in gene’s eyes, to know it’s because of him marrying, not because of him marrying the prettiest girl in town. It makes him remember that one day, much like today, with the sun shining burning hot onto the fields of home. It is a year or five ago and they’d been walking through the same landscape they’re driving through now, hiking and discussing where they’d camp during the night (even if they always had to be home by 10pm, but ‘what if’ sceneries were always fun) . They’d been boys, young and naïve and unaware of the horrors in the world, when they’d been laying in the grass, talking about the birds and the bees and love the way innocent boys do.   
  
Suddenly, though- he hadn’t quite known what to do when Gene suddenly pressed his lips upon Sid’s own. The thickening, tightening atmosphere had been there but it hadn’t warned him, he only realized when it was already happening. He simply didn’t notice before.  
  
Despite the initial shock, Sid had kissed him back anyway. Thereafter they always seemed to find excuses to touch, to kiss whenever they were home alone or out in the country. As they grew older, it developed into something quite different, with mouths and hands and sweating, swearing moans.  
  
Only once, though, only once they’ve gone beyond all that. It wasn’t too long before Sid left for the war. Gene brought along the Vaseline, and Sid spread his legs, cried out in a mix of agony and pleasure, had pulled at himself almost violently and-  
  
Then he gets forced back into the present. They’ve arrived at Gene’s house and Gene is shaking his shoulder. When he gets out, Sid watches him go and thinks about how to fix things (even though he already, vaguely, knows it’s im-)  
  
The next day he drives them to a bridge – it’s where they used to spend days fishing as kids, driven there by their parents, and later by Gene’s brother, and then after that, much -much later, also by themselves. Sid figures Gene must still remember those days, even if the present time has held a surprise for them. The bridge, once small and made out of rugged wood right out of the forest has been replaced by a monstrous building of wrought iron. Underneath, the river banks are sandy beaches- would have been sandy beaches if it weren’t for the amount of weeds and rocks. They get out of the car, into the smell of cold water and marsh, and Gene says “it’s nothing like I remember” to which Sid has to reply “there isn’t anything like we remember”, quietly and carefully for he is afraid to upset Gene.  
  
They walk across the grey beach for a while, though it is hardly their definition of beach anymore (theirs would be “stinking, blood- and guts covered sand with bodies buried shallowly underneath). When they stand under the bridge, invisible even though the roar of cars overhead is loud in their ears, Gene carefully leans towards Sid. Sid gently takes Gene’s hand in his own, then slips it to his wrist while they kiss. It’s careful, it’s tentative and melancholy, and then it is over.  
  
When Sid draws back and looks at Gene, he sees his friends has tears in his eyes. They both know it, and could apologize for all they want, but it won’t be able to save them from this fate.   
  
Even so, when Gene gets out of the car in front of his home again after a long and quiet drive, Sid calls him to a stop and says ‘sorry’. Gene turns his back to him and Sid knows he is sad and angry, is crying.  
  
Three weeks later is his wedding. Gene is present as his best man, and they smile and laugh and tell strong stories about the war. But about love, they don’t mention a single word.


End file.
